


The Fallen Paragon Part #2

by Royxec



Series: The Fallen Paragon [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M, M/M, Other, Protective Dean Winchester, SPN - Freeform, SPN Hiatus Writing Challenge, Sam Winchester - Freeform, Supernatural - Freeform, castiel - Freeform, fan fiction
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-20
Updated: 2021-01-20
Packaged: 2021-03-12 05:54:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,832
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28880535
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Royxec/pseuds/Royxec
Summary: Exhausted from a long series of chained back-to-back Hunts, as well as taunted by a yearning for a more stable life, Sam Winchester begins to reminisce about the good old days of his College years; prior until everything changed in one unforgettable night. So in effort to sate his ever growing desire, Sam swallowed his fears and began to long process of attempting to reconcile with those he once knew before the chaotic shift of both fate and time. And though it seemed hopeless, for the countless faces he once knew had long forgotten him, Sam was able to reconnect with at least one Soul he knew so long ago. And despite the overwhelming distance and prolonged time that that seemed to pass before being able to reply to each new message or text, Sam did his best to keep in touch with his friend regardless of the strain it put on him. Nevertheless, following the 5th dead end case in a row over a group of untraceable Hex-crazy Witches and a collection of missing Hunters, Sam had enough; he needed a break. And he would not take "No" for an answer.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester/Original Character(s), other - Relationship
Series: The Fallen Paragon [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2117433
Kudos: 1





	The Fallen Paragon Part #2

**The Fallen Paragon**   
By: Royxec

**Chapter #2: Disgruntled Reunion**

“We’ve arrived.” Sam said with a mild cheer in his voice. “I think…”  
Slowly Sam drove the impala down the narrow street littered with parked cars, carefully maneuvering past each one by a narrow divide. Nevertheless, despite the tight turns and little room to work with, Sam managed to get the impala past all the obstacles that barred its way and drove into a small driveway at the footing of a black and white beach house that stood on a hill.  
“Well, at least I know you can drive,” Dean scoffed from the back seat. “Still, I think you’re not finished Sammy. Baby is still half way in the street—and I’ll be damned if I allow her to be scratched by these crazy California drivers!”  
“I must agree with Dean, for once on the subject Sam.” Castiel added. “This cul-de-sac is quite crowded and the owners’ cars are scattered all over the street. It is astonishing that none of them hit one another while they back out.”  
“Well Cas, that’s one of the drawbacks you have to account for when you live in a beach neighborhood. The streets are narrow, people park wherever there is room and everyone is in a rush.”  
“Speaking of a ‘beach neighborhood,’ where the hell is the freaking beach?” Dean glowered. “All I see here is cramped looking homes and the narrow divides that one dares to call a front yard.”  
“Dude, it is on the other side of the home most likely.” Sam replied, leering back at Dean with a frown. “The majority of these homes here overlook the beach itself—or at least a part of it.”  
Suddenly the roar of a motorcycle engine was heard in the distance, enticing the three to glance towards the road they had just driven down. Following a few seconds later they saw a driver dressed in a dark leather vest and a black-silver helmet come soaring down the street on a Harley Davidson motorcycle. Weaving through the narrow road at much higher speeds than Sam did prior, the motorcyclist quickly made his way up to the black and white beach house, then parked himself next to the impala.  
“What is this, the first of a motorcycle gang?” Dean snickered. “Tell him if he dares get any closer to my Baby, I’ll—”  
“Dean be quiet,” Castiel ordered, before stifling Dean with his left hand. “The last thing we need is more enemies.”  
Clearing his throat to signal the two to be quiet, Sam rolled down the impala’s shotgun’s side window and smiled. “Uh, hey there Sir,” Sam forced himself to say as polite as he could while he himself also leaned forward towards the open window. “Forgive me please if I took your spot in the driveway—but I think we’re a bit lost.”  
The motorcyclist didn’t answer. Rather, he just switched off the engine of his ride and turned to stare at Sam with his helmet still on. Choosing to sit sidesaddle on his motorcycle as he glared at Sam with his arms crossed next—his face obscured by the black tint of the helmet’s glass—the motorcyclist listened silently, waiting for Sam to finish his story.  
“Is this 741 Dragoon Drive?” Sam muttered. “Reason I ask is because all the numbers on the houses are not highly visible, and the past dozen don’t seem to have any markings whatsoever.”  
The motorcyclist did not answer again. Mildly concerned by the man’s lack of response, Sam licked his lips, then swallowed softly.   
“For Hell’s sake Sammy!” Dean growled, pushing Castiel’s hand away from his mouth so he could talk. “Stop beating around the bush and just throw down already if he refuses to answer!”  
Following Dean’s outburst, the motorcyclist uncrossed his arms and leapt onto his feet. After that, the man walked slowly around the impala until he reached the driver’s side window; his arms resting close against the sides of his body. Then, once the rider ceased moving, he reached into his right pocket and began to search for something.  
“That’s it Sammy, I’m going to blow his head off!” Dean said, reaching for his gun. “He’s reaching for a weapon!”  
“Honestly Dean, I doubt he can even hide a large knife in his front pant’s pocket, let alone a gun.” Castiel sighed. “Cool your jets and allow your brother to handle it.”  
The vein on Dean’s forehead pulsed slightly, then he snarled loudly with anger. “Are you serious right now, Cas? Really?” Dean balked. “You are going to play pacifist while we are in danger with the lone gang member here?” Dean cocked his gun, then slowly readied himself to take aim the second he saw whatever the man was about to pull out of his pocket. “He’s mine.”  
Alarmed, Castiel twisted himself around to stop Dean before he could draw his weapon on the man. Seizing ahold of Dean’s arm with his main hand, Castiel began to wrestle with his best friend. “Dean, no!” Castiel said. “Stand down! You are making a scene!”  
“I’m making a scene?” Dean rebutted, attempting to grapple his gun back from Castiel. “Look whose talking! And give me back my gun!”  
“No!” Castiel growled. “I won’t allow you to shoot an unarmed man!”  
“He is armed!” Dean snapped back. “He has a weapon in his pocket and he is going to pull it on Sammy!”  
Ignoring the rabble, possible threat and all, the motorcyclist pulled whatever he was trying to fish out of his pocket and held it up high into the air before him.  
“Damn it Cas, I said LET GO!” Dean grunted. “He’s got a—” Blinking twice to confirm what he saw before continuing, Dean narrowed his eyes and sneered. “A—”  
Sam just turned around to glare at Dean, his eyes narrowed in frustration. “It’s his phone…” Sam said, raising his voice minorly so that he could speak over the clamor of the scuffle. “It is his damn I-phone!”  
Dean’s face instantly flushed red, then he turned it away to leer in the opposite direction of where his brother was looking. “I knew that Sam.” Dean grunted. “Just testing yah!”  
Succeeding with his effort to wrestle the gun away from Dean, even though it was somewhat pointless now, Castiel swore under his breath. “Jesus, Dean…” Castiel grumbled, before confiscating Dean’s firearm, only then to quickly place it in his trench coat’s right pocket. “You are a piece of work.”  
“Hey, hey, hey!” Dean snapped back, brandishing one of his index fingers at Castiel as if to lecture him. “A heavenly angel man such as yourself is not supposed to use the Lord’s name in vain!”  
“Seriously? You right now are going to preach to me?” Castile asked, raising one eyebrow as he glared back at Dean with a daunting expression. “When you yourself swear more than a navel man explorer?”  
“The expression is, ‘swear more than a sailor,’ Cas.” Dean corrected. “But yes, I am!”  
“What’s the difference?” Castiel muttered. “They are the same thing!”  
“There is a big difference Cas!” Dean rebutted.  
“I swear to God, someone—anyone—just kill me now…” Sam muttered, leaning his head forward on the steering wheel. “Please… I can’t handle this anymore…”  
As Castiel and Dean continued to bicker, leaving Sam alone to sulk by himself quietly, the motorcyclist set down his phone on top of the impala and snickered. Pulling his helmet off next slowly with both arms, the man revealed his face to the three Winchesters and grinned. “Damn Sam,” the man laughed. “I don’t remember you driving around in this beauty while you were on campus—nor do I remember Dean being this paranoid by other males riding bikes. Has it truly been over a decade or so since we last saw each other face to face in physical person?”  
Following the moment he heard the man’s voice, Sam lifted his head from where it lied and turned it towards the speaker. Smiling weakly as he glanced at the man, Sam exited the impala and wrapped his arms around his friend. Hugging him tightly thereafter as he leaned his own head into the groove of the man’s shoulder, Sam remained silent, his body shuddering in spite of himself.  
“Oh, dang,” The man stuttered, slightly disarmed by Sam’s abrupt action. “You grew too in both height and mass.” The man narrowed his eyes next in disappointment, even though Sam failed to see it happen. “Or I just stayed the same body mass index overall for the past countless years… How embarrassing…”  
When compared to Sam, who in return was Six foot four and strongly built in form, the man in question stood at least six feet tall in height and was of a moderate, lean build. He had short auburn-brown colored hair and dark brown eyes. Other than that, the man had some freckles on his face that were subtly seen, and a very distinct voice that was both loud and clear—even though the man spoke normally in an average tone. Finally, the last thing that stood out when one looked upon the man, who looked slightly younger than he actually was in age, was a silver necklace with a figure of a howling wolf at the end of it around his neck. Other than that, he was a young male of about 30 years of age minimum.  
“Uh, well,” The man continued, sounding more flustered the longer Sam continued to hug him without pause. “To answer your first question, Sam. You made it to the right location. However you are parked in the wrong spot… I would suggest you turn around and take the next street down so you can park this car of your’s in my garage on the other side of the house. I rather nothing happen to it while you guys visit.”  
Sam reluctantly released his friend and stood back up to his full height.   
“The small driveway is just for my motorcycle.” The man said with a grin. “The garage I have is large enough to shelter your car, so I suggest you use that instead. But again, you gotta go back down another street until you wind up on the front of the house—somewhat—to reach the lower level and get into the garage.”  
“So you are telling me this wannabe biker dude is your old roommate from college?” Dean grunted, before sticking his head forward to glare at Sam from the front seat. “Cause I damn don’t remember him at all.”  
“Yes Dean, this is James.” Sam said, answering his brother’s question. “I was his roommate and classmate for the longest time before I met Jess. Then I moved out so I could stay with her.”  
“Oh good, peachy…” Dean muttered. “Well, you two go get better acquainted and stuff—doing whatever you need to do—while Cas and I go park Baby in the garage and meet you inside, ok?” 

**Author's Note:**

> The Fallen Paragon is a non cannon, Supernatural Fan fiction about the Winchesters and a hunt they never should have chased; for it opened a different story that Chuck himself never desired them to follow. One prior to the Death of Crowley, the birth of Jack, but a parallel to his story that allowed Dean and Cas to fall for one another, and Sam for someone else the was not expecting.


End file.
